


Residue

by charliescock



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: (although I love to write about her suffering), Angst, Gen, Guilt, I Don't Even Know, I will protect Karen Page until the day that I die, Karen gets a background story (sort of), Post-Defenders, Spoilers For The Defenders, mentions of Karen/Matt, mentions of Karen/OMC, pre-punisher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 04:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13046244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliescock/pseuds/charliescock
Summary: [spoilers for the defenders]...Running away from the aftermath of Matt's death, Karen finds herself at the door of an old friend in Vermont. She takes an opportunity to sort through her thoughts and search for some inner-peace, after everything she has been through.Or: a glimpse of Karen's life before New York while she discusses New York.





	Residue

**Author's Note:**

> Noticing the absence of exclusive Karen Page fanfiction, I've decided to be the change I wanted to see in the world.  
> This is my tribute to Miss Page and her complexity as a multifaceted female character that we should celebrate.  
> I've taken the liberty to set a (rather vague) background story for her, as well as dig deeper into her dark feelings and their nature. If only I could make her justice.
> 
> Karen Page, I love you.

It was 2am, cold and raining, and there I was in front of his door, realizing this was probably a bad idea, and that maybe I shouldn’t have left home. But it was late, I was exhausted, and I didn’t have the energy – or enough gas – to drive for another seven hours back to New York.

I was about to knock on his door when I realized I was soaked, probably looking ridiculous, and maybe even a little scary with my coat over my head and my makeup all over my face. So I took a deep breath, put my coat in place, tried to fix my hair as well as I could and knocked.

A little part of me wished he wasn’t home, or that he had company, so that I wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to come in, but I was relieved when I saw the lights turning on.

“Who the hell is it?” He asked from inside.

“Steve? I’m sorry. It’s Karen. Karen Page.”

“Very funny. Get out of my property or I’ll call the cops on you.” He didn’t believe me, and I couldn’t blame him.

“Steve, please. I know how this sounds but it really is me.”

I could see his silhouette moving to the window, and he peaked from behind the curtain. I could hear a chuckle as the door unlocked, and Steve then looked at me in awe, inspecting me from head to toe. “Karen!”

“I am so sorry, I should have called. I realize what time it is.” I offered, but before I could even finish what I was saying, he had already wrapped his arms around me.

“I missed you, Karen.” He pulled me tighter.

I finally relaxed under his embrace, taking note of how much I had missed him too. How much I missed this. It was so overwhelming that I broke down and started sobbing on his shirt. I didn’t know I needed that hug so much.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He asked without letting me go. I nodded and looked up, to face him. He smiled at me and kissed my forehead. “Come on, let’s go.” He lured me in.

His house still looked exactly the same. Not one single piece of furniture had been rearranged since the last time I’d been here, which was five years before. Even the smell was the same: sawdust. He was a great carpenter. He even made me a dresser once, and many times I wished I had taken it with me to New York when I left. But I couldn’t. I left in a hurry. Spur of the moment kind of thing, just like this visit now.

He gave me something dry to wear, and made me a cup of tea. Chamomile, my favorite – he remembered. We sat on the living room floor, just like old times, and he turned on the heater when he noticed I was still shivering from the cold.

I looked at him fondly. He had grown a beard now; he was so different from the baby face I left five years ago. But his eyes were the same. Dark brown eyes that seemed so kind and forgiving. I remembered the reason I fell in love with him as a teenager.

“So…” He interrupted my moment of introspection. “What is important enough to bring Karen Page to my porch at 2 am on a rainy night? In this ‘ _shithole of a town_ ’, mind you.” He quoted the last time we had talked, when I was thinking about leaving.

I knew I had come here to open up to him, but I didn’t plan anything. Suddenly I realized I didn’t even know where to start. I looked at him and he had that same tender look of endearment, that used to prompt me to tell him everything, back then.

“I needed… I needed you.” I moved a little closer to him, so that I could lie my head on his shoulder, and grab his hand. “I needed out of there.”

He pushed me a little to the side and looked me in the eye. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”

I shook my head, then realized he would see right through my lie. “Yes, but not… Not like you’re thinking. Physical aggression… that I can take. What I can’t is… this. Whatever the hell this is. I just had to get out to clear my head a little.”

He pulled me closer again, and wrapped an arm around me.

“I know how this sounds. I… I was horrible to you, and I regret it every day. But I needed you.” I said.

“Are you coming back?”

“To this ‘shithole of a town’?” We chuckled. “No way. I had a reason to leave.”

“To me?” He lifted my chin to look me in the eye, as he asked. I shook my head, offered him a sympathetic look, and he nodded.

“I love New York. I love my job. I love the people. I don’t want to leave, I just needed a time out.”

He got up to grab me a blanket that lay on the couch, then nodded, indicating for me to keep going.

“You see, New York… Hell’s Kitchen… It has a life of its own. A personality, I don’t know. And I… I love the people. But the city, as this living entity… sometimes it feels just… evil, you know? It keeps taking and taking and taking so much from everyone. No one’s safe. No one.” He wiped a tear from my face. “And I needed time out, because it was making me sick.” I started sobbing as every bad thing that had happened to me flashed before my eyes. Daniel Fisher, Ben, Elena, Matt…

“Karen, you can come home anytime.”

“I can’t! You don’t understand.” Without realizing, I pushed him away. “You don’t… I can’t leave. I’m part of it now. I can’t leave.” I whispered.

I could see it in his eyes that he really didn’t understand, but I could also sense he was trying to. He always did.

“I just… I _did_ lose too much. Not only people. I feel like I lost some part of me. I am _ashamed_ , Steve.” I sputtered. “I’ve done _horrible_ things, and seen even worse. But even with a missing part of myself, I feel like that city… _completes_ me. It gives me something this place could never offer. I feel embraced. I feel like I’m part of something big, something _important_.” I confessed.

“And I know that it seems like I keep running away from my problems – I left to New York to avoid facing what I’d done here, and now I run from New York because I can’t face what I’ve done there –, it’s just that I feel like I keep giving myself more reasons to resent everything. I regret most of my life choices…” I whimpered. “I just wish I could change everything.”

“Karen… You… You’ll have to forgive yourself someday. I don’t think what happened here was your fault, but even if it were… You can’t go back in time and change things… None of us can. You’ve got to let it go. Accept it.”

“Oh, my God.” I gasped. Matt’s face flashed once again before my eyes. “He told me that too.”

“Who?” Steve asked.

“Doesn’t matter.” I lied, but he could always see right through me.

He looked at me expecting me to elaborate, but I didn’t. I wasn’t ready to bring it up just yet. Losing Matt had been the last drop, and I couldn’t take it anymore, which was the reason I inconsequentially drove seven ours back to Vermont and ended up at Steven’s porch at 2 am.

For the first few months, Foggy and I had promised to stay strong for each other. And in the beginning, it did help having someone who understood my pain. But as time went by, all we ever felt around each other was the weight of our loss. With time it became unbearable to share the same room. We couldn’t have normal conversations, because it always went back to Matt. Always. Both of us dragged around our shares of pain and guilt, and we didn’t understand each other anymore. It felt like, somehow, we secretly wished we could have changed roles.

Foggy regretted opening the door for Matt to act as Daredevil again, even though it was clear that Matt would have gone for it with or without his consent. And I could only wish my last words to Matt had been of acceptance, like Foggy’s had. Back then it seemed the right thing to push him in the opposite direction, but after everything, I realized I could never have convinced him to change. It was me against the city. He couldn’t let go of what he did and what it stood for, just the way I couldn’t seem to leave the city even after it took so much from me. Even after it took him from me. That city forces you to stay and fight. You’re bound to it in an inexplicable way.

Steve kept looking me, expecting me to say something, but I didn’t have it in me yet. I didn’t know what I expected from this irrational decision when I set foot on the gas and left New York, but I knew I wasn’t exactly ready to open up about everything. Not at that moment, anyway.

“Come on, let’s sleep. I am sorry I woke you up in the first place.” I smiled sympathetically.

“It’s okay, Karen.” He helped me up. “I missed you.”

 

*

 

I must have been really tired, because I didn’t even remember falling asleep. I woke up the next morning, sun against my face, and I stared at the so familiar ceiling of Steve’s bedroom while I stretched in bed.

I turned to the side to face him, as I had done many times before in the past, but he wasn’t there. I sat on the bed and found him on the floor, still asleep – peacefully asleep. Seeing him like that turned my stomach. I remembered why I loved him.

We started dating back in 9th grade. Just shy pre-teens who enjoyed each other’s company on a boring Sunday afternoon in a small town in Vermont. It started off as silly innocent teenage romance, but with time we became great friends. Steve was special in his own way; different. He had an incredible ability to put himself in the shoes of other people, and he never judged anyone for who they were or what they did. He always said you could never really know what some person was going through deep down in their heart. And that, that was entirely his own merit. No one in this town had ever taught him to think like that – if anything, we were taught just the opposite. But he just did, naturally.

Out of everyone I knew, he was the only person who genuinely accepted me for who I was. I was different too, in a way. I didn’t know why, but I just never felt like I belonged. I didn’t know any better, but I always knew this town wasn’t right for me. And so did everyone else. But they kept forcing me to fit in. Even though it was clear that I couldn’t. Each thing that happened would only prove me right: I didn’t belong here.

The only one who didn’t seem to care that I didn’t fit in was Steve. And I loved him for that.

Unfortunately, as we grew older, we realized we weren’t exactly meant to be. We had our differences, after all, and being the only interracial couple in a small town like this was tiring. But we cared about each other too much to let go, so we kept going as an on-off thing. Probably because we only entirely trusted each other. We were each other’s foundation.

When the thing with my brother happened, he was the only one who was there for me. The only one in the entire town whose first reaction wasn’t to point a finger at me. Blame me. It meant a lot to me, even though it didn’t make it any easier.

Time passed and the judgment I suffered only made me realize I couldn’t stay here any longer. I couldn’t handle the guilt myself, and I had hundreds of people constantly reminding me of what I’d done. Even with Steve’s help it became unbearable.

So I took all my savings and hopped on the first bus to New York. Didn’t tell anyone. I just left.

I had talked to Steve about this intention before, but I never let him know when I was actually gonna do it. I knew he’d try to convince me to stay, and I didn’t need that.

I knew leaving was the right thing to do, but I do regret not giving him any explanations. Steve, out of everyone else, deserved better. And looking at his peaceful face at that moment turned my stomach. He always deserved better.

 

*

 

Over breakfast we shared a few moments of uncomfortable silence, until he started talking.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything when you left?” He awkwardly took a sip of his OJ.

“I…” I picked up my plate and moved to the sink, to wash it, and didn’t finish my sentence. He waited patiently.

“I was afraid you’d tell me not to go.” I finally conceded.

“Would it…” He paused too. “Anything I could have said. Would it have made a difference?”

“No.” That wasn’t true. “Actually, yes. If you had looked me in the eye and told me to stay, I probably would have. But I knew I couldn’t. I made a judgment call.” I shrugged. “I loved you, but this town, _my family_ , they were tearing me apart every day, and if I had stayed for you, they would have finished destroying me.”

“Listen.” I kept going as he listened intently. “Don’t you think I ever stopped hating myself for what I did to you. I loved you, I still do, and I can’t handle the fact that I hurt you. But I want to believe that in doing so I saved myself.”

He finally opened his mouth. “Karen… You know, when you left, you did hurt me. I was worried like hell. I had no idea where you were, how to find you, if you were safe. It killed me, for a long time.”

I started tearing up and he gestured for me to sit on his lap, so he’d hold me.

“You know, for a whole year, I kept expecting that you’d come back.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” I mumbled through tears.

“Hey, let me finish.” He interrupted me and I nodded. “For a whole year I kept going back and forth on opinions. One day I missed you like hell. The other I hated you and wished you’d never show up again. Until… Until I realized we were never meant to be, and found my peace with it.”

I looked at him surprised. I had always sensed Steve intended to marry me someday.

“Because I like this ‘shithole of a town’.” He smiled affectionately. “I am _happy_ here. But you, you were always destined for greater things. _You_ could _never_ be happy here.”

I hugged him tight.

“Karen, of course I wish you would at least have said something. But I understand.”

“I know you do.” I pulled him tighter.

“I’m glad you found a way to save yourself, as you say.” He gently brushed my hair out of my face and put it behind one of my ears.

I let him go and it was his turn to get up and wash his plate on the sink, while I awkwardly sipped on some OJ.

“You know…” He looked over his shoulder while he rinsed the plate. “Maybe you should listen to the advice that someone gave you. You can’t change the past, Karen, but you can make peace with the present, you know?”

My body stiffened at the unintended mention of Matt.

“We don’t need to talk about it.” He reassured me.

“But I do.” I admitted.

“Take your time.” He said as he dried his hands on the dishrag and smiled.

 

*

 

I sat on the porch, and breathed in the smell of damp grass.

Curiously enough, though, the sky showed no signs of the rainstorm form the previous night. It was blue and clear, with no sight of any clouds. It wasn’t particularly hot, though, and the breeze was light and chilly.

I had to admit I missed this. The silence, the peace. Not having any other construction or inhabitants in sight. Isolation felt good.

Steve must have figured I was taking some time for introspection, because I heard his footsteps approach me, but before I could turn around to face him he decided to get back into the house.

“Hey, come back.” I called him.

“I thought you needed some time alone.” He sat by my side.

“I’ve had enough.” I smiled.

“It does get overwhelming, sometimes.” He confessed. “The isolation, I mean.”

I leaned forward a bit and looked at him from behind a lock of hair that hung in front of my eyes. “Have you been with someone else? Since I left?”

“I uh… I have.” He shifted his weight on the chair. I could feel he was uncomfortable with the question.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m happy to hear that. Means I didn’t completely ruin your life.” I joked, and it earned me a chuckle.

“Have _you_? Seen someone?” he queried.

“Kind of.” I pulled my hair back and aligned my posture. “I worked as his secretary. He was a lawyer.”

“Was?” He looked at me melancholically.

“Yeah.” I sighed. “He, uh… He was _very_ complicated, and I wasted too much time mistaking that with… I don’t know… unrighteousness, maybe? I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to understand he was a good person. He was just… very confused, I guess.”

“Karen…” he interrupted me.

“Stop. I know you’re gonna tell me not to beat myself up over this, but I can’t, okay? Not now.” I cried. “I wish I was more like you.”

“What do you mean?” Steve looked puzzled.

“You always accepted me for who I was.” I smiled sadly. “I should’ve done the same for him. Instead, I demanded he acted against his own nature for mainly selfish reasons. Only now I see that I should have supported him.” I sighed. “Anyway… I tried reaching out to mutual friends after what happened, but I guess all of us were too devastated to support each other. And I just had to get away from that circle of grief before it consumed me.”

Steve got up and invited me into another hug, which I granted him, even though I didn’t really feel like hugging anyone – I was feeling too exposed. But I knew he’d feel better if he got the impression that he was helping me in some way.

 

*

 

After lunch, the weather changed. Heavy clouds hid the bright yellow sun behind them, and the sky faded from blue to a dark shade of grey again. I admired the sky from the window of his living room, and I must have allowed my mind to travel far away from there, because I was startled by Steve’s voice when he called from behind be.

“Tell me more about that guy.” He brought me a glass of water and invited me to sit down on the couch. “Give me a name, a story. Tell me the good stuff.”

I looked at him a little bit confused.

“I want you to remember the good stuff and forget the bad parts.”

“Oh.” I realized I hadn’t really thought about the good stuff in a while. “Uhm… His name was Matthew.” I conceded.

“Okay…” He gestured for me to proceed.

“I got in trouble at my old job, and he saved me. Him and his partner, I mean. Foggy. That’s how I stared working as their secretary. To thank them for what they did.” I took a breath. “We actually became great friends, the three of us. I have a picture of us here.” I showed him the picture of us on St. Patrick’s Day, that I always carried around with me.

Steve smiled. “Which one of them is he?”

“This one.” I pointed to Matt.

“Blind?”

“Uh… Yeah.” My stomach turned again as I realized maybe I had been too harsh on Matt after he revealed his secret to me. A few months before I would have struggled to answer this question sincerely. At first it felt like betrayal, since I assumed he just pretended to be blind – which would have been a horrible thing to do, to say the least. But even though it took me a while to understand what it really meant, I finally got it. Unfortunately, it might have been too late.

My expression must have given me away, because Steve looked at me caringly, reminding me to focus on the good parts of the story. “What did you like the most about him?” He prompted me, again.

The question caught me off guard, but I knew the answer, and I didn’t even have to think about it.

“He… he was a hero.” I smiled proudly. “Not a day went by that he wouldn’t act towards righting the wrongs. Even if I didn’t recognize it back then.”

Saying it out loud finally made me see. Maybe I really had been agonizing over the wrong things. Steve was right, it was a matter of perspective, after all.  I should celebrate who Matt had been, not mourn what he never got to be. And he had been a _hero_. In more ways than he realized, probably.

Of course, there were still so many things I wish I could have done differently. If I could go back in time, that is. But Matt would still be there fighting for his beliefs and, at the end of the day, he’d still be the hero. Even if a fallen one. He would never have turned his back to the battle.

Maybe I shouldn’t be mourning my loss. Maybe I should be honoring his mission.

As I’d once realized, every one of us has a hero inside. Matt’s memory wouldn’t be consigned to oblivion if I kept it alive in my own battles. And I should honor that.

I got up to give Steve a squeeze.

“Thank you.” I whispered. “I knew you’d make me see it right.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you've managed to read this until the very end, I thank you so much from the bottom of my heart, because I wrote this with the utter conviction that I'd be the only person interested in reading this story.  
> Thank you for sticking with me to the end!
> 
> If it's not much to ask, please, leave a comment and tell me how you feel about Karen Page ;)


End file.
